


His memory

by DaftDays



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Day 1: Past/memories, Eruri Week, Levi thinks about their past, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:23:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3069710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaftDays/pseuds/DaftDays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the war over, Levi and Erwin live in a house of their own. It's not exactly how Levi imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His memory

**Author's Note:**

> For Eruri week 2014, day 1. Theme: past/memories
> 
> Also [on my tumblr](http://daftd.tumblr.com/post/106710009172/his-memory).

Erwin is fast asleep when Levi finally finds him.

He sighs in relief, steps up to the chair they have brought outside, to their backyard. Erwin likes to sit out here and watch the sun go down. It's Erwin's favorite, the chair, it's from his office from when he still was the commander and Levi silently believes it still holds some kind of sentimental value, even if Erwin doesn't admit it. 

It's quiet outside, the shadows creeping from the corners and spreading over their small backyard. The view over the hills is pretty, calming, the sky raging red and gold. For a moment Levi watches the night put the day to sleep, the gentle blanket of darkness spreading over the vast world. He never questions why Erwin likes to sit here, he understands it all too well. From here he can see both the free, open world and the remaining rubble where wall Maria once stood, and they both hold more meaning than either of them likes to acknowledge. The world is free now, it's good, but it's not for them.

A crow cries in a nearby oak tree. Startled, Levi looks up to the sky, to the first stars pushing through the last light of the day. He blinks, one, two, three times and turns back to Erwin. 

The former commander is still fast asleep. His mouth is hanging slightly open and Levi no longer even wrinkles his nose as he wipes a small trickle of drool from Erwin's chin. Erwin is puffing, not snoring but close, blanket crumbled on the ground at his feet. Levi picks it up, dusts it, then spreads it back over Erwin's thinning legs. His commander is no longer the fit strapping soldier that led the mankind to a gruesome but deserved victory over the titans, no. It's been years and years, Levi tells him he doesn't know how many. It's a lie, though, he keeps careful note of every passing day. It's been years and they're old.

Erwin is going gray, the new silver hair looks fantastic against his now softly sun-kissed skin. His eyes are still the same sky blue, sometimes covered in clouds and sometimes clear as the mountain river, but his skin sags a little, and the wrinkles, they are definitely there. More prominent than Levi's too, more numerous, carved into his skin by worry and guilt and fear. He no longer works out much, his back won't let him, so they take walks, long walks over the hills and to the ruins of the walls. Sometimes they go ride their horses too, but it's rare these days. In fact, Levi is not sure he can recall the last time he has touched the saddle. Erwin hasn't been feeling up for it in a while.

The crow cries again. Levi thinks back to the time when it wasn't like this. The time when he wasn't allowed to run his fingers through Erwin's hair, stroke his cheek like he now does. All those years they wasted skirting around the edges, avoiding the issue, denying the attraction and running from the growing feelings. Wasted on loneliness when they could have taken a head start to what they have now, what they had for the many short years after the war. Not that Levi is bitter, he tries not to be, about anything anymore. It's not worth it, they have so little life left. 

He still remembers Erwin as he was back then. As he was in the underground, flying through the air, chasing him, holding Levi's friends hostage. Levi can still recall Isabel's face, at least he thinks he can. Farlan's he no longer remembers. At first the change scared him, pissed him off; now he understands. It's inevitable, and one day he will no longer remember Isabel's either. And it is fine, he still remembers them, what he had with them, those two, his only family. Not all of them are so lucky.

Erwin has always been beautiful to him. He is like a holy figure stepped out of a painting or an old tell told by shepherds by the fire at night, a hero, the savior of the mankind. That he is, even until this day, the one man who led the fight to the titans to their bitter victory. So many lives were lost. Levi shuts his eyes, engulfed by the sudden darkness, memories of death. The stench of blood, partially eaten humans, crushed to death, someone crying for help when no help was left to give. The horrors of their last battles, the broken soldiers, sudden despair. And in the middle of it all stood Erwin, their beacon of hope, and finally guided them to triumph. They took back their world and Erwin was titled a hero, a savior, and Levi stood by his side every moment, reluctantly sharing the glory, some of it. He wanted none of it, he wanted out, away from the humans. He wanted the small house somewhere secluded, the house Erwin had promised him, and Erwin always kept his promises.

They have their house now. As Levi looks at it he sees not the weathered walls, the ivy growing up the side of the building, but the love and effort be put into scrubbing every inch of them clean back then, all the abuse his poor knees took as he knelt by the windows planting flowers. He remembers the smell of smoke and burnt food that once wafted out of the window, a result of Erwin's attempt at baking. The kitchen holds many memories, many of laughter, some of anger, numerous ruined pots and burnt fingers, Erwin's embarrassed laughter and Levi's annoyed scoffs. Soft kisses that make up for the ruined food, cold stone floors that Levi escapes by jumping to sit on the counter by the stove. Erwin nestled between his legs, comfortable, loving, warm, touching him all over and not giving a damn about Levi complaining of nasty things getting on the counter until Levi melts under his touch like butter. 

It was never easy, not for them, this easy life. Worrying over the first snow, not for others but for themselves, knowing they'd be shoveling snow way too soon every year. The autumn leaves clogging up their chimney, a bird making it's nest in their roof. Small things, for normal people. A life neither of them ever expected to have. At least they have no children, that one they had agreed on right away, they are too broken to bring up new lives. So Levi cooks and Erwin learns to chop firewood with one arm, starts the fire in their little bathroom, heats the bathing water. The tub is too large for the room and it is the one luxury they wanted. It saves water, bathing together, and that's what they often do. Levi gets to wash Erwin's hair, scrubs through the soft blond locks, massaging Erwin's scalp and dragging soft moans out of the former commander.

He was allowed to keep his bolo tie, even after retirement.

Their bedroom holds nothing but a bed, a dresser and a fireplace for winters. Levi can't grasp a single memory to cling to, the bedroom is more a feeling to him. It's warmth, and love too, it's Erwin wrapping around him during a cold winter night, stroking his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. It's him holding the older man's hand, squeezing his warm fingers, holding onto the heat. It's tangled limbs, quick smiles, gasps and groans, too loud creaks of the bed that make them both laugh, crackling of the firewood. It's Erwin reading in bed, still squeaking every time Levi crawls under the blanket and pushes his icy toes against the taller man's leg. The thick rug on the floor, the same rug that once hid mouse droppings, Erwin's booming laughter as Levi skipped into the bathroom to scrub first his toes and then the rug.

Erwin groans, shaking Levi out of his memories. His fingers rest gently on Erwin's cheek, loving, sharing what little heat he has left. Erwin blinks, still half asleep, then looks up. His eyes look clear and for a moment, a brief second, hope flutters in Levi like a shy butterfly. 

It drops like a soldier from titan's maws when Erwin smiles.

Polite, but distant, poised like no other. 

”Ahem... I must've fallen asleep”, Erwin comments, voice groggy from sleep.

Levi can sense the beginnings of a sore throat on him.

”Yes, you did”, he answers, gentle, unable to take his fingers out of Erwin's hair. 

The former commander regards him with mild curiosity.

”I'm... sorry”, Erwin says, clears his throat.  
”But who are you?”

The crow cries for the third time. Levi pretends the words don't sting, busies himself with folding Erwin's blanket. His hands don't tremble, his throat doesn't burn. He knows to expect this now, more often than not. He knows to expect the kitchen utensils in the bathroom closets, the empty kettles shining hot on the stove, empty of water. The riding equipment left on the floor, the nights when Erwin looks at him so weird he sleeps in front of the fire in his chair instead of their bed, the nights after when Erwin doesn't cry but sobs apologies to him, curses himself, the gods, his mind that betrays him after all these years. 

Levi is not bitter, not anymore, he tries not to. He tries, but it doesn't always work, and so he looks down as he takes Erwin by the elbow to help him up.

”Levi”, he says, introducing himself. He doesn't know how many times he has done this, he doesn't keep count.  
”Humanity's strongest, remember?”

Erwin looks brighter at that, he memory jogged, and he nods, still smiling, still polite.  
”Oh, of course. Do you think we could go inside?”

Levi nods. It's getting cold after all, the summer nights are not as warm as they used to be.

Erwin stands up with a bit of help, his blanket forgotten. Levi grabs it and follows the older man to the back door of their house. Erwin keeps talking, this time about Mike, wondering when he is going to come over, if he'll bring Marie along, maybe he should ask Nile too. Levi no longer listens to the decayed memories that spill from Erwin's lips, he touches the walls of their house and clings to memories of his own, the happy ones, the ones Erwin rarely has anymore. He closes the door and tries not to be bitter, tries not to wonder if it would've been easier to die in the war after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and happy Eruri week!


End file.
